


A Car for Carwood

by Soronya



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Cars, Established Relationship, Janovec I am sorry I bet you were a good guy, M/M, Modern AU, Office Sex, P.I. Carwood Lipton, SO MUCH BANTER, blowjob, carwood loves his car, gangster au, mob-boss speirs, soft smut, this fic is crack and I'm not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soronya/pseuds/Soronya
Summary: Ron has a surprise for Carwood, but he is not amused.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45
Collections: Serverversary (say that 5 times fast)





	A Car for Carwood

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored and had been finished with my first fic weeks before the deadline. So here’s another fic for the serverversary of the Crackhead Company. Since that one is not beta-read yet, you get this one first:
> 
> Prompt No. 3:  
>  ~~Winnix~~ , Speirton  
> gangster AU, modern AU, ~~outsider pov~~
> 
> This is more of a mob-boss vs. civilian AU than a gangster AU, but at least it’s set in the modern times. Somehow Speirs and Carwood remind me a little bit of Marcone and Dresden from the Dresden Files and I just… had to. So here’s the ~~hopefully at least a little bit funny~~ story about Speirs being a mob-boss ~~nobody asked for~~.
> 
> A huge thank you goes out to [Sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahlu), for beta-reading this! I love you ♥

Carwood was furious.

He was storming through the entrance of the expensive looking business building, all glass and metal and tasteful LED lighting, without even looking at the brawny security guards.

“Sorry, Sir, you cannot–” the bigger guard with a badly trimmed goatee tried to stop him in his tracks, but Carwood interrupted him.

“Oh, I can. I can and I will. As it happens I know that douchebag who claims to be the head of this so called _company_ very well and whether you like it or not, I am going to talk to him. _In person_.”

“Sir, I cannot let you in without checking your ID, so please–” Goatee tried again, but today, Carwood wasn’t having that shit.

“Listen, I come here almost every second day, you should know my face by now,” Carwood said, pointing at his own face and glared at him. Goatee glared back, while the other security guard, a slightly smaller man with small eyes and a bullneck looked like he was pondering whether to pull his gun or not.

“I’m sorry. I’m new in this position,” Goatee answered, not looking even slightly apologetic. “Sir, you will either show me your ID now or I will remove you from this property by force.”

Bullneck looked happy given the promise of an upcoming fight, and even though Carwood was not a small or weak man either, he didn’t really want to test his strength with these two knuckleheads. Something told him it would not end well for him.

So Carwood merely rolled with his eyes and fished his wallet out of his pocket. “Fine. Here! Happy? Can I go and see Mr. Speirs now?”

Goatee stared at his ID with squinted eyes, then nodded slowly. “You can enter. Go to the reception and let them check if Mr. Speirs is willing to welcome you.”

“Sure,” Carwood answered and pushed past them. He ignored the friendly looking receptionist who sat behind the white high gloss front desk and headed straight to the elevator instead, hearing Goatee shout at him from the door.

Carwood didn’t care. He had an axe to grind with Speirs.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped into it before Bullneck started to walk towards him with big steps. Quickly, he pushed the button for the 24th floor, hoping the doors would close just in time before he’d get into real trouble with Bullneck.

Carwood watched in satisfaction how Bullneck realised he wouldn’t make it in time to stop him, before the doors closed and the lift ascended. At least a small success today, Carwood thought, before the anger inside of him flared up again. A few seconds later he arrived at the top floor, where Ron had his office at the end of the corridor, and Carwood stormed out of the elevator.

Of course, Speirs’ bureau was as exclusive as the whole building, if not even more. The floor was white marble, the interior made of glass and metal and the soil-deep windows allowed a breathtaking view over the city skyline. 

Carwood couldn’t care less at the moment. 

Usually he was more bothered than amazed by the sight of all of this unnecessary luxury, but today he simply had other things on his mind. He rushed past the irritated secretary who didn’t even have the chance to say something, before he opened the opal glass door to Speirs’ office.

Speirs, looking stunning as always, was wearing a grey three piece suit with a white shirt and a black tie, sat at his desk and was bowed over a bunch of documents. His more than useless bodyguard Janovec stood behind him and stared off into space. Both looked up at Carwood in surprise as he stormed through the door and Janovec fidgeted for his gun, but it seemed he couldn’t even get it out of it’s holster.

“Save yourself the trouble,” Carwood said to him, “I’m sure Ron would be pissed if you accidentally shot yourself.”

Carwood still wondered how this man got the job as a bodyguard. Janovec was not only of average height, but also skinny and gangly, his face looking like he’d just finished high school with a degree that didn’t offer him many possibilities. He seemed loyal, though, but he lacked the physical requests and especially the presence of mind that were essential for the job as a bodyguard. To be honest, if Carwood thought about it, he looked like he had the Tetris music playing in his head twenty-four seven and that wasn’t really a character trait he’d liked to see in anyone. 

Inherently, Speirs didn’t really need a bodyguard at all - the man was scary enough for two and the rumours he was surrounded by did the rest to it. Surely someone once had forced him to hire a bodyguard and he’d recruited the worst man he could have found purely out of pure spite.

Speirs himself could kill men without even batting an eye and rumours said he even offered them cigarettes before murdering them. He probably had killed many people, he was a mob boss for God’s sake, and many men made a detour just to avoid him.

Carwood didn’t give a shit about it. He never set much value on rumours anyway and Ron had always been quite nice to him, so he had preferred forming an opinion all by himself. It had been a strange coincidence that he’d even met Speirs and had been even stranger that they had started to run into each other on a regular basis afterwards.

Carwood had been home from war for almost half a year and because of a missing person in his neighbourhood he had decided to keep his ears and eyes open. This way, he had stumbled into the business of being a private investigator and he had helped quite a few people this way. The job not only distracted his mind from remembering oddly specific pictures of the war, but also gave him something meaningful to do and he had found he enjoyed helping the people. He still was a P.I. today and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

One day, when he had been looking for a runaway teenager, he’d stumbled into an abandoned factory and suddenly saw himself eye to eye with Ronald Speirs, of whom he had only heard whispered rumours till then. Strangely, Speirs had heard of _Carwood_ before and when he told him so, he couldn’t believe it. But it had seemed like Carwood’s merits, both as a soldier and as a P.I., had been talked about even in these circles.

Oddly enough and out of a reason Carwood didn’t know, Speirs hadn’t killed him that day but instead had offered to help finding the lost girl. Two days later they had located her in a small hut in the woods not far out of town. 

Since then, they’d always seemed to run into each other and soon Carwood had started to believe it wasn’t by accident anymore. He had confronted Speirs with it, and blunt as Speirs was after all, he had asked him out. Carwood had been thrown off his guard so much that he’d agreed. Long story short: They’d been dating ever since and as long as Carwood turned a blind eye towards Ron’s more illegal business activities, everything was fine.

But today, Speirs had overstepped a line. 

Janovec had finally pulled his pistol out of his holster and poorly aimed at Carwood, holding it in a completely wrong way. Carwood was about to tell him, but Speirs just shook his head with a futile expression on his face.

“Put the gun down, Janovec, before you hurt yourself,” he commanded without even looking at him. His eyes were focused on Carwood alone.  
“Yes, Sir,” Janovec said, fumbling with the weapon to put it back into the holster again. Carwood had to suppress a smirk. He was angry, god damn it, he shouldn’t find it funny if a greenhorn didn’t know how to properly handle a gun right now.

“Ron, do you mind telling me what _this_ is?” Carwood asked, voice sweet but his eyes glaring, as he pulled a car key out of his pocket and leaned over Ron’s desk. The key was attached to a ring and a leather tag was dangling from it, while Carwood hold it between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s a car key,” Ron explained dryly, still fixating Carwood with his piercing green eyes.

“Really, it’s a _car key_ , thank you,” Carwood said, staring back. “Let me rephrase it. Why did I find _this_ at the key hooks this morning instead of my key? And while we’re at it: Where is my goddamn car, _Ronald_?”

Ron looked at him, the left corner of his mouth twitching into half a smile. “The key belongs to your new car,” he said calmly, “and your new car was parked in front of your garage.”

“It’s a fucking red Porsche, Ron! A red Porsche! Why on earth a red Porsche? I am a P.I.!” Carwood took a deep breath before continuing, “I’ll attract attention _everywhere_ I go with this car! How do you think I shall do my job that requires to be inconspicuous while driving a car like that? And where’s my old car? I like my old car!”

“So many questions, Carwood,” Ron sighed, looking down at the documents that laid on his desk. “Janovec, why don’t you file these way and see if you can organise Mr. Lipton here a coffee?”

“Sir! Yes, Sir!” Janovec exclaimed and saluted, before collecting the papers hastily. After he’d left the room, Carwood gave Ron a questioning look, raising one eyebrow.

“You make him _salute_ to you?”

Ron sighed, running a hand over his face. “No, not really. I meant it as a joke when I caught him flat-footed while making out with one of the secretaries. Told him that I’d better not witness things like that again and that he should salute whenever he sees me. He didn’t quite get I meant the latter one as a joke and I for sure won’t enlighten him.” 

Carwood just shook his head, but decided to drop it. Janovec wasn’t his responsibility and he had other things that bothered him right now, anyway.

“Mind telling me now where my car is?” Carwood asked again. “And before you tell me the Porsche is my new car, you can cut it. I wanna know where _my_ car is.”

“I scrapped it.”

“You… You what?”

“Look, Carwood. That car was broken and you had trouble with it every other day before. I just thought-”

“You thought… You thought what, Ron? I loved my car! It had a soul! And you let it be scrapped?” Carwood yelled frantically, not believing his ears.

“It had an engine failure, Carwood! You couldn’t have used it to go anywhere anymore! Also it was just a dumb Chrysler LeBaron from the nineties and besides I bought you a new car.”

“But it was _my_ dumb LeBaron from the nineties!” Carwood lamented weakly. “It was the first car I got myself and I took great care of it ever since. Yeah, I know I should’ve taken it to the workshop sooner and the engine failure definitely doesn’t raise it’s value, but… It was _my_ car!”

“It didn’t drive anymore!” Ron replied insistently and then added in a lower and more gentle voice, “I thought I’d treat you.”

“Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean you can scrap my things without asking! Or buy me new things I could never afford even if I saved all my yearly income.”

Ron stood up from behind his desk and walked around it, carefully putting his hand onto Carwoods upper arm. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you, okay? I thought I was doing you a favour.”

“Well, you didn’t”, Carwood answered faintly. “And stop buying me expensive things, alright? You aren’t my sugar daddy.”

Ron leered at that. “I’m not? Oh, what a pity. Guess we should change that.” With a swift move, he pulled Carwood close into a tight embrace and their bodies met, pressing at each other in a very promising manner. In Ron’s eyes was a mischievous glint, his lips still quirked in a smirk.

Carwood flushed, his cheeks burning, and his mouth was suddenly dry, very dry, while his anger vanished into thin air. It was not fair Ron could silence him with such little effort and that he was able to arouse him with almost nothing but a gaze or a small gesture.

Ron leaned his head forward and for a second Carwood could feel his hot breath against his cheek, before he nipped playfully at his neck, placing soft kisses at the delicate skin. Carwood shuddered and suppressed a moan, his hands clenching in Ron’s suit jacket.

“I hate you,” Carwood breathed, while Ron scraped his teeth over his neck and then licked carefully over the reddening skin. Carwood was sure he’d leave marks but he couldn’t care less.

“No, you don’t,” Ron smiled, then captured his lips in a kiss. It was hot and wet and perfect and Carwood groaned into it, meeting Ron’s tongue with his own and licking into his mouth. The kiss was messy and when Ron pushed him against the desk, Carwood gasped in surprise but didn’t let go of him. Good God, kissing Ron always felt so fantastic and every single touch of their lips was new and exciting and he could never get enough of it.

Now half-sitting on the shiny desktop, Carwood pulled Ron over him and yanked his suit jacket from his shoulders. It fell to the floor and Ron grunted in disapproval - he had always been kind of a neat freak when it come to his clothes - but he didn’t let go of Carwood to pick it up. Instead, Ron just pushed him down onto the desk, invaded the space between Carwood’s legs and bit carefully into his bottom lip. 

Carwood moaned involuntarily, his heart beating too hard, too fast, and he pulled Ron’s shirt out of his trousers, to get his hands onto some skin, to touch him, to pull him even closer. Ron smiled wickedly at him, clearly enjoying the sight of Carwood beneath him, all hot and bothered.

“How handy it comes that you’re so easy to distract,” Ron grinned and mischief twinkled in his eyes as he lifted Carwood’s shirt and dipped down to kiss and suck at the soft skin at his stomach.

“The Jury is still out on that matter,” Carwood breathed huskily but his half-hearted protest was wiped from his lips as Ron sucked marks into his skin directly over his waistband. Carwood’s mind turned into mush, his hand flying to Ron’s head and he buried it in his thick black hair. 

“Fuck, Ron.”

“Exactly what I have in mind,” Ron smirked and opened Carwood’s button fly slowly, too slowly. Carwood sucked in a surprised breath and he lifted his head to look down at Ron, whose eyes locked with his own. It was almost too much already and when Ron pulled Carwood’s jeans over his butt, he groaned wantonly.

Carwood was hard, had been since Ron had pushed him down on the desk, but now the feeling became almost overwhelming. He wanted Ron so badly, wanted him to finally touch him, wanted to feel his mouth on him.

He just _wanted_. 

Carwood shifted his weight a bit in anticipation, moving his arm along the way, and knocked over a pen holder. The pens spluttered over the desk, some rolled towards the edge and fell down, and suddenly Carwood remembered where he was.

“God, Ron, we can’t do this here,” he protested weakly, his breath coming in ragged gasps and even he realised his plea didn’t come over very convincing. “What if… Oh God, Janovec could be back any second.”

“Him?” Ron snorted amused. “It’ll take him half the day to file the documents. And nobody else would even _dare_ to bother without calling first.”

“I did not call,” Carwood pointed out, still a bit breathless. He tried to push himself up onto his elbows, but Ron held him down, leaned over him again and captured his lips in an all-consuming kiss that left Carwood speechless.

“No, but the receptionist did shortly after you ran past her,” Ron explained and began again to pepper Carwood’s stomach with kisses, sucking the delicate skin into his mouth here and there to leave marks. “Do you think you’d have come so far if I hadn’t given my men the order to stay put?”

“Then why did Janovec looked so surprised?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“You’re a real dick sometimes,” Carwood said hoarsely, but Ron just grinned at that.

“If you don’t want to attract unwanted attention, maybe you should keep quiet now.”

Carwood searched for an appropriate answer, trying to keep at least some of his dignity. He failed completely since Ron decided this was the perfect time to pull down his briefs, get onto his knees and then he took him into his mouth without hesitation. Carwood sucked in a breath in surprise, his head falling back and his eyes closed in pleasure.

Fuck, the things Ron could do with his mouth and his tongue always drove Carwood insane and he couldn’t think straight anymore. How was he able to restrain himself when Ron sucked at him, his mouth to perfectly wet and velvety smooth, his tongue licking just at the right spots, his hands holding him in place? 

Right. He couldn’t. And he hated it. No, he loved it. Good God, yes, he couldn’t deny it, he loved it when Ron was like this, all possessive and hot and demanding and confident. Carwood buried his hands in Ron’s soft hair to hold onto, to at least have some control over the situation, but he got none of that.

Ron just ignored Carwood’s attempt to guide him, just keeping his rhythm, up and down, sucking, licking, playing with his tongue. Carwood groaned, too loud, too shameless, but right now, he didn’t care. His body felt like being on fire, his heart was beating hard and fast and he just wanted more, so much more.

“Ron,” Carwood groaned desperately. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Carwood was getting closer, the burning sensation inside of him flared up and his hips bucked involuntarily, meeting Ron’s movement, asking him to please keep going and to quicken his pace. Ron just put a hand onto his hip, pushing him down again, and slowed his movements a bit, at which Carwood just whimpered in despair.

“Please,” Carwood breathed, almost begged. He couldn’t take it any longer. Ron seemed to feel Carwood’s desperation and had mercy with him, speeding up his pace. Carwood was close to the edge now, his breath coming in ragged hitches now, only interrupted by his own moans. Ron kept sucking him when he came, swallowing everything down while Carwood gasped for air. 

Slowly, very slowly, Carwood came to his senses again, his heartbeat steadying, and he opened his eyes. Ron leaned over him, he must have gotten up some time ago. His hair was mussed, his lips red and swollen, and his eyes were full of affection.

Carwood pulled him down into a kiss, tasting himself on Ron’s lips, salty and alkaline, but he couldn’t care less. The kiss was sloppy but earnest and when they parted, Ron smiled at him.

“I hope you forgive me now,” Ron said smugly and Carwood rolled his eyes.

“You think you get away so easily after scrapping my car?” Carwood snorted, but his voice lacked any anger. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“I will?” Ron asked and raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Why don’t you come back the day after tomorrow and we’ll see what I can do? Would you give me time till then to make up for everything?”

“Fine,” Carwood answered, mockingly glaring at Ron.

“You’re the best.” Ron kissed him again and Carwood couldn’t resist to not pull him close one more time before getting up to dress himself. Ron watched him, looking pleased with himself, as he picked up his suit jacket and put it back on.

Both winced when the door flew open and Janovec entered the room, a cup full of steaming coffee in his left hand. He lifted his right arm and saluted.

“Sir, I filed the documents away and brought a coffee for Mr. Lipton.”

“Thank you, Janovec,” Ron said, before turning towards Carwood. “Please, sit down a moment and enjoy your coffee.”

Carwood just nodded, grateful Janovec didn’t come in a few minutes earlier, and took the cup out of his hand. “Thank you,” he said to Janovec and sat down at the comfortable office chair.

“You’re welcome, Sir.”

Meanwhile, Ron had started to collect the pens that had scattered onto the floor and put them back into the holder on his desk. Carwood watched smugly and took a sip of his coffee. Served him right, he thought, since Ron himself was responsible for the mess Carwood made.

They sat in silence while Carwood finished drinking his coffee and Ron worked at his computer for some time. Janovec stood behind Ron, noticeably inconspicuous, his gaze locked on the door.

When they bid their goodbyes a few minutes later, Carwood promised to come back in two days to see how Ron would try to make up for scrapping his car. He did not have high hopes, though.

*

Carwood had called Ron this time before visiting him this time, so the security guards and also the receptionist knew about it. Ron met Carwood at the elevators, greeting him with a broad smile.

“Hey Carwood,” he said. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“I hope it’s not a Ferrari,” Carwood countered flatly, but there was no spite in his voice. He was still mad about his car, though, but it had been broken completely anyway and Ron had just meant well.

“I promise, it’s not.”

The elevator door opened and Ron deferred to Carwood before stepping inside himself, then pushing the button for the underground garage.

“Not another car, is it?” Carwood asked, almost in defeat, but Ron just shrugged and grinned at him. Carwood rolled with his eyes. Sometimes he hated Ron’s smugness. 

Only a few moments later, the elevator doors opened and they stepped outside into the garage. Many cars were parked here, all different brands and sizes and Carwood asked himself how many of these were Ron’s own.

“Come with me,” Ron instructed and Carwood followed him without further question. When they walked around a corner, Carwood saw it and stopped dead in his tracks.

“You can’t be serious,” he exclaimed and blinked twice. But it was still there. “You’re kidding me. Is it… Is it really?”

“Of course,” Ron answered, visibly proud of himself.

“I thought you had it scrapped!” Carwood said in disbelief, slowly walking closer.

“You have too little faith in me,” Ron told him and smiled broadly. “I know how much it means to you.”

“Does it… I mean, is it roadworthy again?”

“Yeah. It’s fit to drive. It also has new brakes, new cushioning and seat covering and has been freshly painted.”

Carwood still didn’t believe his eyes. Because there, on a parking lot, stood his black Chrysler LeBaron, looking like being in mint condition and the shiny car finish glinted in the cool artificial light. He went closer to touch it, the smooth surface felt cool beneath his fingers and it was still hard to believe his beloved car was here, fully functional.

“Ron,” Carwood started, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, a thank you would be a start.”

Carwood snorted in amusement. “You lied to me, you stupid dumbass!” He turned around to face Ron and pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you, Ron. I really appreciate it.”

Ron kissed him, a sweet and tender kiss, and then looked at him with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Well then, there’s only one last thing to settle. I definitely want the keys for my Porsche back.”

“I thought it was a gift?”

“Oh, you _wish_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to everyone who recognises the TV-series the car is from :)
> 
> Plus: this was my first attempt at writing smut. Please be kind. I know it's probably a disaster.


End file.
